


She's Messy, But She's Kind

by sewnbythecolourofgreen



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 11:23:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11805009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sewnbythecolourofgreen/pseuds/sewnbythecolourofgreen
Summary: Three moments that I though complimented each other nicely.He loves her.Terribly.





	She's Messy, But She's Kind

**Author's Note:**

> A little bit of procrastination as I struggle through the conclusion of Ends of the Earth. 
> 
> The little bit at the end of the first section is mostly from cyanidebats. 
> 
> Title from "She Used to Be Mine" by Sara Bareilles, because apparently I'm incapable of naming fics after anything other than song lyrics. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!

i.

The alarm went off (it's three alarms, actually. MacKenzie doesn't  _like_  getting out of bed in the mornings, and some habits- notably military punctuality- don't die quite as hard as one might like). 

There had been a rustling of sheets, a shifting closer to the edge of the bed, then a muffled "C'mere". Followed by more rustling of the sheets, this time of an entirely  _different_  variety. 

And now they were late. 

"Have you seen my shoes?" Mac asked around her toothbrush. She was standing in skirt and bra, her blouse tangled around her shoulders. 

"Could you have been any less specific just then?" Will retorted, pulling on his pants. 

She spat in the sink and glared at him. "My Louboutins."

"Not helpful."

"Black." She enunciated carefully with mocking patience. "Heels. Red on the bottoms."

"Don't you have about a hundred pairs of those?"

"I only have one pair  _here_."

"These?" He held them up. 

"Yes."

Will checked his phone. "Car's downstairs when you're ready."

"I'm not." She kissed him quickly before bending down to get the shoes on. "Sometimes being late is worth it."

Will grinned. "I completely agree."

*

"I wonder where they are." Maggie mused, looking into the empty conference room. "Rundown should have started five minutes ago."

"They got engaged three weeks ago." Don said, smirking as he passed her desk. "It's really not that hard to hazard a guess."

Maggie stared at Don, slack-jawed. "I... Oh my God... Did you hear that?" she asked Jim. 

"Um, yeah?" Jim replied. "Come on, Maggie, I mean-"

"Jim, those are our  _parents_."

Jim burst out laughing. "Our  _parents_?"

Maggie turned bright red. "I didn't mean to- I - you  _know_ \- shut up."

Jim handed Maggie a folder. "Can you make sure Mom- sorry,  _Mac_ , gets this after the rundown?"

“How long are you going to be making fun of me for this?”

“I wouldn’t put money on it ever ending.”

 

ii. 

He ripped the earpiece off the second Mac told him he was clear and by 9:02 (personal best) he had changed and was waiting in the bullpen impatiently. "Are you ready?" he asked as soon as MacKenzie emerged from the control room.  

She frowned at him. "Herb's out tonight, remember? We said we'd stick around until everything's been shut down."

"I forgot." Will strode to the center of the bullpen. "Hey, listen up!" he called to the staffers milling around the newsroom. "I know Herb doesn't mind when people  _hang around_  or whatever you call it before going your respective ways, but just for tonight everyone needs to be out in the next ten minutes; we have dinner reservations, and by  _we_ , I don't mean you." Satisfied with his little speech, he returned to Mac's side, noting the increased pace of the staff's movements. Jackets were thrown on, folders abandoned on desks. 

"Mac, I had a question for you about the chyron in the C-block." Jim leaned over to show her his rundown. 

"Let me stop you right there." Will said. "It's Valentine's Day for another two hours and fifty-six minutes and if you do anything to take even a second more of that time from Mac and me then I will remember that for the rest of my life and I promise you're going to wish I didn't."

Jim scurried away and Mac leaned in to kiss Will on the cheek. “It’s terrible how much I love you.” she said.

“A real tragedy.”

“We’re hopeless.”

Watching the stream of staffers leaving the office, Will leaned in to murmur into MacKenzie’s ear. “Thoughts on skipping dessert in favour of getting home sooner?”

“Positive.”

“I’m glad we could come to this agreement.”

“I mean, I thought  _I_ was going to be dessert, so…”

“Five minutes, everyone!” Will called, amended to "No, three!" as his fiancée laughed.

He loves her.

Terribly.

 

iii. 

From the doorway of their bedroom (they do  _have_ a bedroom now, mostly furnished), Will could see her curled up on the bed, the box of things she'd promised to unpack while he was out untouched. 

MacKenzie stirred at the sound of his shoes on the hardwood. "I wasn't asleep." she murmured, eyes still closed. 

"Nah, of course not." Will said softly. "Who'd dare think that?"

Mac stretched out on the bed, truly awake now. Her features crumpled into an anxious expression. "I'm sorry, Billy, I didn't unpack the box."

"Honey, it's okay." Will sat on the bed next to her and began rubbing her back. "You're allowed to be tired, God knows you've got reason to be."

She smiled weakly as it all came rushing back, and not for the first time today. 

He saw it written on her face.  _Charlie's dead and I'm pregnant and I have a new job and everything is different now_.

"This week was better though, right? It's getting easier?" Will tried to keep the concern from his voice. There was no doubt in his mind that MacKenzie McHale could handle anything the world threw at her, but she'd been incredibly stressed since taking over for Charlie, and he knew it wasn't good for the baby (or for her).

"It is." she said simply. "I think it just takes time."

 _You won't talk about Charlie and you won't talk about how I won't be your EP and everything is changing and I'm worried about you_ _._

It hung between them, unsaid. He was trying to let her in, he really was. God, he was trying. 

"Let's do it now." Mac decided. "The box. Let's get it over with."

"You're tired." Will protested. "You should have a nap. It's a  _Sunday_."

"It's not like we're going to have time during the week." She got up off the bed and lifted the box onto the mattress (before Will could rush in to help). "I haven't seen most of this stuff in years." she said, pulling off the top. "We can probably get rid of most of it; I think it's all from when Jim and I were in Washington." She started making piles: what to keep (pictures, old Christmas decorations, a pair of sunglasses she wrote off as lost years ago) and what to toss (an old kettle, some paperwork from CNN, a ball of crumpled receipts). 

"Honey, what do you need a rock for?" Will asked, picking up the offending item from her 'keep' pile. 

She glanced at it and resumed sorting. "War zone memorabilia."

"War zone memorabilia?"

"It's not as if they were selling t-shirts and postcards."

"So you picked a rock off the ground?"

"No, it's a  _special_  rock." she said, as if that much should have been obvious. "Jim threw it at me once."

"Why?"

"I can't remember; I was being an idiot about something. We were just messing around."

Will scrunched his features into mock confusion. "If Jim threw a rock at you every time you were an idiot about something, why don't you have skull contusions by now?"

MacKenzie swatted him lightly. "Shut it." Then, a moment later. "I'm quite fond of you, you know."

"You'll be happy to know the feeling is perfectly mutual."

_We’ll work it out. All of it._


End file.
